Beware the Frozen Heart
by KingGustav
Summary: Based on the Finnish myth of Kullervo. Extremely bleak and morbid, so don't read if you cry easily (and if you do, have tissues handy). Rated for all sorts of tragedy (read the author's note at the beginning for more detail). Oneshot.


_Author's Introduction_

Before I start with this story, there are a few things I want to clarify before you continue.

This story is based on the Finnish myth of Kullervo. The myth is extremely morbid and depressing, and, since this story is founded on it, this probably will be too. There are themes of war violence, kidnapping, rape, incest, child slavery, and suicide.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Now, about the characters. The story itself focuses on an OC, so don't be surprised if your favorite characters either don't appear in the story at all or play minor roles. Since myths are not known for having a great deal of character development, I'm going to be adding a lot to the skeleton of the myth so it all makes sense on some level.

Another disclaimer: The time period is timeless, as it is a myth. Also, historical accuracy is not the goal here; this is pretty much a gangbang mashup of Finno-Russo-Swedish-Baltic history over the course of hundreds of years, mostly pertaining to the 800-1300 AD range.

Also, for a musical selection... for Kullervo/Ingria's character (not the myth itself) I chose Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov's _Russian Easter Overture. _It may seem like a strange choice, but it's what came to mind when I thought of his character. Lots of minor themes, but always with a glimmer of hope and redemption. If that's a too major-key work for you, then the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius' own choral masterpiece _Kullervo _should work well; it's even broken down into the separate sections of the myth.

All of that being said, try to enjoy this story.

* * *

The Nordics all huddled around the central fireplace in the Nordic House, intent on keeping warm. A driving rain pounded outside, and so they resorted to telling stories, true and myth, around the fire. Sweden and Åland cuddled against each other, and Denmark was leaning on Norway, which the latter was patiently withstanding. Iceland was playing Minesweeper.

"All right, who will go next?" Sweden said.

Finland raised his hand. Sweden looked at his boyfriend. "Do you mind translating for us?" Åland rolled his eyes and went over next to his cousin.

Finland began...

* * *

_In the land of the Suomi, in a forgotten age…_

Smoke rose from the town of Turku. A grey sky (what else would you find in this part of the world?) hung over it like an omen. But for now, all was calm and peaceful. No marauders or pillagers. The townspeople began to settle down for the night, huddled around their fires. In the chieftain's hut, a handful of warriors were scurrying around like ground squirrels before hibernation time. The atmosphere was full of tension, and if you didn't know any better you'd think that they were going to be attacked any moment. But attacked by whom?

"Sir, your brother is due to attack any moment," a squire reported. "Our spies have seen his force. They are bent on destruction and death! Unless we evacuate the town, he will burn this place to the ground!" Finland raised his hand to silence the boy. "Ah, but he miscalculates," he said with a small smile. "We have the advantage of terrain on our side! We have the powers of the forest, and Miellikki's protection. We can simply hide our warriors in there, and then ambush them. They have to go through the wood, so it will work, I'm sure of it. Order a small scouting party to the far edge of the forest." The squire bowed. "Yes, sir."

Finland stewed in his thoughts as some of his warriors went off. Only a servant boy remained behind. "That'll teach Russia to steal my livestock," Finland muttered. "In the interest of fairness, sir," the servant boy said cautiously, "you did attack his town." Finland's face went stark red, but the words that came out were said in measured calm. "He attacked me first, if you remember. He took away some of our people's land, and we needed to take it back." The servant boy responded, "I understand, sir, but wouldn't it be wise to ask for reinforcements from our allies?"

"What allies?" Finland snapped, as he took a heavy pull from a wooden flask. His cheeks flushed red, and he collapsed into his seat. The servant boy helped him up. "Sir, you shouldn't be drinking so much," he said as he tended to Finland's posture. "It's going to cause something awful to you if you don't stop." He tried to shake Finland out of his rapidly declining state, but to no avail. Sighing, he took the chieftain and laid him to rest, covering him with a blanket.

* * *

The Finnish warriors waited on the edge of the forest for Russia's attack. Their spies had intercepted Russian messages meant for Finland's brother in Novgorod. These had detailed that they (Russia's warriors) would be attacking Suomi land from the Isthmus. And seeing how Russia had a small base camp set up on the edge of the forest that the latent Finns were bunkered out in, it seemed to be all but an inevitability.

But as the night passed, the warriors grew more and more nervous. No sign of Russians, anywhere. "Do you think that we were deceived?" asked a soldier. His comrade responded, "Hush! Even if we were, we shouldn't give ourselves away!" Just then, they heard a horse approach their makeshift camp. Every warrior went on alert, but it proved to just be their commander. "I have awful news," he said. "The Slavs have recruited forces from the plains. One force is attacking by going around the north end of the Great Lake, and the other will sweep in from the Isthmus. By the time we dispose of the latter force, it'll be too late!" Just as he said that, a horn blared to life from the north. "At Jumala's mercy!" the soldier wailed, and they hurried off to meet the northern attack force in combat.

They saw the large host of Russia marching forth, destined for Turku. The behemoth nation was there at the head of the marchers, dressed for glorious battle; compared to the Finns, they might as well have dressed nude. They had nowhere near the armor that Russia had. The whole thing was doomed.

"Sir!" one of the warriors told their commander. "The only hope we have is if we ask help from Helsinki!" The commander balked. "From the Swedes?" he said. "We don't have enough time! Look, they're almost here!" The warrior responded, "Not if I send a prayer!" He dashed off a quick prayer to Ukko, that his sword would assist them in their time of need as it had done before many a time.

Not half an hour later, another horn sounded, this time from the southeast. It was not crude and banal, like the Slavic horn; this was mellow but proud, and carried an air of nobility with it. "The Swedes! Helsinki has arrived!"

Sure enough, Sweden came with a large contingent of Vikings. He surveyed the Finnish forces with pity and not a little disdain. "Is this all?" he asked, incredulous. "It's all that Chief Finland would muster," said the commanding Finn. "He was convinced that Russia would only insist on capturing Turku, but, as you can probably see by the army he's bringing, I'm starting to think that he's underestimating his brother again." Sweden snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said. "And if he's not careful, it'll be his last," the commander said, completing Sweden's sentence. The Finn removed his helmet to reveal a neat haircut of dark grey hair; a pair of horn-rimmed glasses sat solidly upon the bridge of his nose. "The name's Åland, sir," he said, extending his hand towards Sweden. Sweden accepted it tentatively. "We might need to talk."

Sweden, Åland, and several of their best warriors gathered around a large parchment map inside a tent in the Finnish camp. Åland used a birch stick as a pointer. "So Russia's main fortress is here, at Novgorod," he said, pointing to a castle located to the southwest of the Isthmus. "He's recruited fellow Slavs from Byelorussia and Cossacks from Ukraine. They gathered at Novgorod and split up into two fronts."

"The Russian host set out to the north, intending to go around Lake Ladoga to the north and head straight for Turku. The others, called the Slavic front, are crossing the Isthmus, and intend to sack Helsingfors before their rendezvous with Russia. After that, they head north to cement Russian control of our lands." Sweden noted, with particular interest, that the Finn had used the _Swedish_ name, rather than the _Finnish_ Helsinki.

"Question," Sweden asked Åland, whom he was starting to find minutely attractive. "What started all of this?" Åland sighed. "Oh, you know brothers," he said. "It began when they were very little. Then, when they grew up to take command of their own people, it grew into taking livestock and raiding a castle. Now, it's gone into full-out war, and I don't see how either of them will survive the scars that this will leave." Sweden straightened out his armor and sword belt that he had over his back. "Well," he said, "we'll just have to deal with one issue at a time. And that would be protecting your hometown. I'll take this group with your men, and I'll send an order to brace the port for battle." He turned to one of his men and whispered something in his ear. The soldier nodded grimly and mounted a horse, taking off.

The Swedish Vikings and the Finns dug into a trench they built outside of the town walls, waiting for the Russians. Then, they heard the steady clomp clomp clomp of a vast army, and the light from the lit torches that the Russians were carrying made the soon-to-be battlefield glow orange. "Whatever God you pray to," Sweden grimaced, "do it now."

When the army was close enough that the warriors and Vikings could make out facial features, Åland bellowed, _"Suomalaiset, puolustaa kotimaa!"_ Vikings and Finns alike roared and spilled out of the trench like mice. The Russians were caught completely by surprise, and for the first few moments of the battle the Finnish-Swedish alliance held their own very well, even starting to force the host to retreat. But then the superior numbers of the Russians started to exact their toll; swaths of Russians would disappear, but then a new column would replace them, like robots. The Finns kept yelling, _"Leikkaa ne alas!"_ but their numbers were dwindling, with nobody to replace them.

Then the sky glowed orange, and with horror Åland realized that the enemy had succeeded in setting the town on fire. He could hear the screams of innocents being burned alive. "Sweden! We have to go rescue people!" Sweden yelled back, "NOW?" Then he saw what Åland's problem was, and left the field to go assist him in aid.

He and Åland piled civilians into boats with some possessions, and he thanked God that there weren't that many townspeople. "Send them to Estonia!" Åland called to Sweden. "At least until Turku's rebuilt." But just then, the town gates broke down and swarms of Russian savages stormed the town, killing all in their way.

Meanwhile, in the chieftain's hut the servant boy was desperately trying to get Finland to get up. "Sir," he said, panicking, "The Russians have taken the town! Get up, and maybe we can get you to a boat." Finland stirred, but not convincingly. "What's your name, boy?" he said, his voice grinding. "Sami, sir," the servant replied. "Sami, your duty is to protect my little sister. D'you understand? She's not much older than you. Take care of her. Love her. Leave me," Finland said. "I can take care of myself."

Sami left the hut in disarray, asking any passerby where he might find the chieftain's sister. Finally, he chanced upon an old woman, limping her way to the docks. After carrying her to the boat, she asked him if there was a favor she could do for him. He asked her where he might find Finland's sister. She led him to a small boat with several of the town's riffraff, as well as an astonishingly beautiful girl. She was indeed about Sami's age, in her late teens or early twenties. Her hair was long and fair, with eyes the color of _salmiakki_. She looked like a true Nordic princess. Sami gulped as he approached her.

"Um, miss?" he called. She looked his direction. "My name is Sami. I'm here to, er, protect you. On orders from your brother," he added hastily, noting her raised eyebrow. "Come with me. It's okay." She eyed him warily as she stood up and left the boat. Immediately, the lecherous men that were in the boat with her started to pull her back. To Sami's horror, they had chained her to the boat as a… well, it didn't take a genius to figure that one out. She struggled against her bonds, finally massing enough strength to rip the bracket securing the chain right out of the boat. Sami freed her by jury-rigging a key and picking the locks.

And not a moment too soon. The Russians had reached the docks, and were firing flaming arrows at the wooden boats. Pretty soon, the entire pier was on fire, cutting them off from land. Each boat went up in flames, like a Viking funeral pyre, and sunk into the Baltic Sea. Russian archers picked off survivors, then the screaming went quiet. All was ghastly calm.

* * *

Come daybreak, Russia stood on a hill outside of town, looking over the complete annihilation of Finland's principal port. Almost all had burned to the ground, and some of his elder warriors were going through the wreckage, on orders to kill all survivors.

They were unaware that five had gotten away, and were three secured inside the town. Åland and Sweden, after the town was destroyed, hurried to Helsinki to see how that front was holding up. It had ended the complete opposite of Turku- the Swedes had obliterated the host of Slavs from the plains, and Helsinki held, despite bad damage to its outer wall. Upon learning this, they fastened themselves into the fortress, and Åland turned his back on Finland, something that Finland remembers to this day. It was also that day that the usually cozy relationship between Finland and Sweden went kaput, and Finland resolved that the Swedes shall no longer hold Finnish ground. Unfortunately, with the Finnish center gone, he had no army, no home, and no people to rule, he didn't really have the clout to say that.

Finland's larynx gave out due to his rampant alcoholism, and when he went mute, his usually bucolic attitude suddenly shifted into a perpetually gloomy one. Then, shortly after the sacking of Turku, Finland disappeared, and Sami did not see him for a very long time. He did not blame him- after all, he would've ended up dead if Russia found him- but it severely hampered Sami's ability to care for Sister Finland. She was cute and pleasant enough, sure, but her older brother's wisdom helped him through.

About a week after Turku's destruction, Sami woke up to find himself and Sister Finland at swordpoint. "Sir, I found two!" the Russian yelled, and before Sami could do anything, they were being yanked by their hair and presented before Russia himself.

Russia looked over them carefully, and thinking to himself. Finally he said, "Dispose of the male. The other I could use." As the commandant took Sami into the field outside of town to meet an expected fate, Russia worked his dark magic on Sister Finland.

"Well, what do you say, gorgeous?" he cooed. Sister Finland struggled against his advances, but that just made him tighten his grip even more. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. "Mmmm. I like it when they don't talk. Nobody can hear you scream," he purred as he caressed her gently, pinching her in sensitive areas every once in a while. Then, just as sudden as a cobra, he attacked.

As he left after violating her, she lay on the ground that had once been her home, sobbing. _If only everything could end_, she thought. But she had no idea how much worse things were to get.

* * *

_3 months later…_

Russia awoke to the cries of the infant in the room right next to him. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed in the midst of a hangover-induced migraine. What he heard coming from the crib, and what he saw, sobered him up completely. He had, of course, stolen Sister Finland's child; it was, after all, his. And with him came a gift and a name, both courtesy of his mother: the gift was Finland's reindeer bone knife and the name was Ingria. When Russia chanced upon Ingria's crib, he saw the infant muttering and chuckling to himself. Russia only caught snatches of his speech, but it made his hair stand on end.

"Must kill Russia… and his damned tribe… spawn of Tuonela, they must die…" all the while giggling to himself. Russia resolved to deal with him in the morning, when he was positive that he wasn't hearing the baby utter curses upon him.

With morning came two things: the swords of sunlight that caused Russia to writhe in pain, and the now clearly emanant curses coming from Ingria.

"_Ukko sinua kiroavat, Venäjä! Toivon sinulle ja helvetin heimo kärsiä kipua pahempaa kuin kuolema, ja voi Tuonelan tehdä ikuisuuden kivulias ja elävä helvetti!_" the infant yelled. Russia resolved to have the child disposed of; he was really starting to freak Russia out. "Guards!" Russia yelled. A guard duly arrived. "Go, drown that… demon child in Lake Ilmen!" Plucking an infuriated Ingria by the scruff of his shirt, the guard withdrew him from Russia's palace, still screaming profanity at Russia.

The guard took the infant and dropped him into the frozen Ilmen. After a few minutes, it seemed that the child had indeed been disposed of. Then a spluttering Ingria rose to the surface and latched himself to the guard. Both of them went screaming into the frozen lake. Only one of them survived.

Russia was enjoying some purloined Finnish vodka when he heard the palace door open. When he turned around, he went pale.

A sopping wet Ingria stood there, mad as a Tasmanian devil. "You Russian dog," the child said. "You thought you could kill me, did you? Well, it's going to take a lot more than holding me underwater." Then the infant seemed to age several years until he looked about twelve. Withdrawing his heirloom knife, Ingria screamed and lunged at Russia. Russia only managed to protect himself by parrying Ingria's stab with the flat of his sword. Ingria went toppling over and fell face first on the palace floor. Russia decided to try again.

"Guards, take this demon and hang him for sorcery!" Russia yelled, by now frightened.

The guards took Ingria to the gallows, providing a step stool since the child was too small for the noose. With a kick, Ingria twitched, and all seemed to go according to plan. Then, just like last time, Ingria got a big grin on his face. The noose burned off and he dropped to the gallows floor, turning on the two guards. They started sweating bullets when Ingria flicked his wrist at one of them. The guard fell off the gallows and landed on the hard floor flat on his back, breaking his neck. The other guard was disposed of in a similar manner, and Ingria walked away, towing their corpses behind him, only they were floating in the air courtesy of his latent magic.

Needless to say, Russia had a heart attack when Ingria dropped the bodies of his two executioners on the floor, as if they were an offering. Ingria, with no humor in his face, said, "Would you like to join them? then stop trying to kill me, it won't work." Russia was unconvinced. He ordered the youth to be burned at the stake.

As the flames crept up to Ingria's neckline, a palpable cold started to creep through the ground, turning everything black. As the spectators grew nervous, Ingria growled, "You have now tried three times to kill me. You have failed all three times. Now, as punishment for this, you will _DIE_!" And with that a concussion emanated from Ingria and a black cloud/sonic boom killed everyone present and put out the flames. Using his knife he cut himself out of his bonds, and went to go confront his adoptive father.

Ingria grabbed Russia and judo-flipped him on his back. Russia knew that this was it. This was the end, as Ingria stood over him, ready to drive a knife into his chest. Then, Ingria's hand went slack, but not out of guilt. "It is not your time to die yet," he snarled, then slunk off into the woods. Russia decided to let the youth grow up, and to treat him as normal- well, as normal as a raving lunatic with magical powers and a thirst for seeing your dead body could get.

As the years went by, Russia found it more difficult to keep Ingria around the house. For one, he had the temper of an active volcano. Anything and everything seemed to piss him off. He seemed to be breaking something all the time.

Another and more frightening reason was the emergence of magical powers. Ingria had almost godlike abilities, but instead of using them responsibly, his ferocious temper led him to use them for evil. It was not uncommon to see multitudes of dead animals around the palace when he had a meltdown, and Russia made sure to keep any living human far from him whenever possible.

These two conditions were what made up Russia's mind to sell him into slavery. It was just no longer feasible to keep him around, not him. So when he broke the news to Ingria, the youth treated it almost like a dream come true. He despised Russia because of what he had done to his family and his miserable childhood.

By now Ingria was coming of age, and as a going-away gift Russia gave him a package that he said to open right away. When he opened it, it was a shirt, short-sleeved. It had a yellow field with a blue cross- like Sweden's in reverse- but with a red border around the cross. Also included were a matching wool hat and blanket for cold nights, since he probably would be sleeping out in the stable with the animals. Ingria managed to eke out, "Thanks, I guess." Russia nodded tacitly, then directed him to the door, where a horse cart awaited him. And when evening came, he didn't look back on Novgorod, but ahead to his future.

* * *

_6 months later…_

Ingria moaned as the daylight shone through a crack in the barn. "C'mon, you!" prattled his wake up call. "Up and at 'em!" He groaned, put his hat on, and opened the large doors. A heavyset woman greeted him, carrying a bucket and a shovel. "You know what to do," she said matter-of-factly. Ingria nodded in response. The woman grabbed him and growled, "Now listen here, you. If you miss one pen this time, Ukko help me I will chop you into bits. Now, get to work!" She shoved him roughly, and he landed on his back in the hay.

He had been sold into the servitude of the god Ilmarinen, in the far north of Finnish land. At first, he thought that being the servant of a god, especially the fire god, wouldn't be so awful after all. Then he learned that he would almost never deal with the god himself, but rather his ill-tempered wife. If Ingria was a goat on the scale of bad attitudes, his mistress was a underfed alligator. She bullied him every day, just because. He worked hard, but it was never good enough. And the threats. She threatened to kill him at least twice a day, and she had gotten very creative with her descriptions.

So much for not being awful.

He grabbed the shovel and pail and got started on shoveling. Every once in a while, he would glance over his shoulder and summon a little magic to destroy some manure. But it was menial work, and it was often times the only work he was given. He stunk of manure at the end of every day. For six months it had gone on like this, and he anticipated for it to go on for six months more, or even longer. At night, he would sneak out of the barn and go rinse himself and his clothes in the lake with the small amount of soap they had for cleaning the horses.

That evening, his mistress brought out a loaf of bread and a scroll. Ingria, underfed by at least 25 pounds and ragged from another day of labor, nearly bowled her over in anticipation. "This is a prayer I want you to invoke over the livestock tonight," she said. He looked at it. It was over 250 lines long. Sighing, he sat down with the loaf of bread as she went off to milk the cows. The loaf was very dense, so Ingria brought his knife out to cut it. When he brought his knife through it… his knife shattered. Like glass.

Ingria stared at his broken heirloom, the only evidence he came from a loving family in the first place. Then he broke open the bread loaf.

There were rocks baked into the bread.

Rocks.

Filled with boiling rage, he turned towards his mistress. He invoked a silent curse on the cattle, and they slowly began to morph shape. "What in the name of-?" she gasped. The cows changed in large, brown figures. Then, on his command, the bears eviscerated her and ate her entrails.

Panting, he packed what little he had and escaped into the woods.

* * *

_1 year later…_

Ingria stumbled out of the Finnish forest and onto a large plain. He saw smoke rising in the distance. Many thoughts came to him at once. _Food. Shelter. Freedom._

But something he did not count on was the first one he encountered.

He saw a husky man with greying hair in furs collecting potatoes in a field. When Ingria approached him, the man nearly screamed.

"Sir, I mean you no harm!" Ingria said. "I just escaped from slavery in the far north and need a place to stay." The man suddenly seemed to understand. "Sure, you can stay with my family. But let's get your cloth tidied, it stinks."

Once his clothes were fresh once again, the man introduced himself. "My name's Sami," he said. "Ingria," Ingria replied, returning Sami's handshake. Sami seemed to pause for a moment, then returned to normal. "Pleased to meet you," he said, this time with a unsure tone in his voice.

When Sami and Ingria entered, Ingria saw a beautiful woman preparing dinner on the table. "This is my wife, Sister Finland," Sami said. Sister Finland glowed back, and curtseyed. "Do excuse her; she's a mute."

Ingria nodded politely. "I understand. How do you do? My name is Ingria." Sister Finland nearly dropped the pan of potatoes she was roasting. She turned and stared at him. Ingria shifted uncomfortably, not sure why they recognized him. Then Sister Finland smiled at Sami, and started to cry. "I'm sorry, I don't understand," Ingria said, by now very confused.

Sami smiled at him and said, "Welcome home, son." Ingria's eyes got as wide as the dinner plates as his mother grabbed him into a tight embrace, and he embraced back, struggling to hold back tears of his own. "I thought you dead," Ingria said. "So did we," Sami said. "And look at the handsome man you've become!" To be honest, Ingria had never looked at himself. When he looked in the reflection of glass, he saw a handsome face with wild blonde hair.

"Well, what's happened in the last several years?" Ingria asked as they sat down to eat. "Well, we're all that's left," Sami said sadly. "We lost your sister a while ago. She disappeared, and we fear her dead." Ingria was shocked. "Wait, I have a sister?" he said. Sami nodded. "Her name was Karelia. Beautiful. Looked just like you mother." The table got quiet for a while as they sat awkwardly, eating in silence. When all was finished, Ingria was shown his bed. A bed for the first time in months. He fell asleep and had a black vision- that is, empty of dreams.

In the morning, Sami said, "Well, you can start working now. There are a couple of apprenticeships in town; why don't you go find one you might be interested in?" To Ingria, it sounded reasonable enough. However, the challenge was keeping said job.

Every once in a while, Sami would get complaints from the various shop owners about his son. Sami blew them all off. My son, a nuisance? Preposterous! But the complaints were severe- complete loss of temper and the like- and Sami thought he might check them out if they persisted. When the blacksmith accused Ingria of sorcery, Sami had had enough. He disguised himself and went down to the smithy to investigate.

There, he saw Ingria working on tempering metal. Everything seemed to be normal, and then, inexplicably, the blacksmith screamed in pain. He turned furiously towards Ingria, who was still working. "What did you do now?" the blacksmith screamed. Ingria acted completely innocent, but when the blacksmith went back to his forge, Sami saw Ingria flick his wrist and start moving his hands, still working on his project. While he was doing this, the flame leapt out of the forge. The blacksmith, nearly burned, grabbed Ingria and threw him out.

Sami was devastated. His son had magic, but it seemed as though he either couldn't control it or used it for evil. His own son! He had to figure something out.

When Ingria got home, Sami said to him, "You'll be working in the fields from now on. It's obvious that you're dangerous to the people around you, so we're putting you to work with nobody around. Try not to kill anybody." Ingria felt heartbroken, and the dam that had been holding back his anger and rage broke. From then on, Ingria was consumed by anger and evil.

* * *

_6 months later..._

And so Ingria tilled the fields, and as time passed a family started to build up around him. He got a brother and a sister. Eventually, he was now in his early twenties and his father was sending him on a dull but otherwise important task: taxes needed to be paid for the village, and they needed someone to deliver them to Turku, which had been rebuilt but was now controlled by Sweden.

And so he went to Turku and delivered them, and he received the tax refund back. While wandering the forest road to get home, he came across a quite attractive beggar-girl, about his age. She had long brown hair with dark eyes, and wore a red dress with a black cross and a green border around the cross. He knew she was probably poor, and his evil rose up within him.

"Hello, my sweet," he said, approaching the girl. She seemed startled and was afraid of Ingria, and she backed away slowly. "Now, now, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, advancing on her. She silently counted to three, then made a break for it, but tripped over a stick and tumbled to the ground. His animal instincts having completely taken over by now, Ingria grabbed her and raped her. She lay on the forest floor sobbing. When he was done, she screamed at him, "Ingria! It's Karelia, your sister!"

He turned around and faced her, completely horrified. He had desecrated his own sister. Feeling an overwhelming force of guilt and sorrow, he knew there was nothing in the world he could do to recompense her for what he had done. Before he knew it, she ingested a handful of small red berries, and within ten minutes was dead.

He ran home and told everyone that he saw Karelia dead in the forest, but buried away the reason. And his heart turned to stone.

* * *

_1 month later…._

Ingria was still tilling the field, collecting potatoes and the like, when he felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was time for revenge upon Russia.

When he got home, he just simply sat on his bed and stewed. His family knew what he was thinking. They tried to turn him away, but he just hardened up more and eventually rejected their own counsel. His family had no choice but to abandon hope for him, except his mother. Sister Finland's love for him was greater than any love that ever existed, but she couldn't stave off the cold march of death.

* * *

_1 year later..._

As time whiled away, Ingria remained unchanged. He still sought and plotted the death of his kidnapper and his band, and his appearance changed from a Finnish version of Scånia to more like if Iceland started doing heroin. He was little more than a beast in a quasi-human shell, and his mother still tended to him.

His father was the first to go, after a long bout with consumption. Then, his younger siblings were lost to the plague. Their bodies lay untended, and Ingria refused to do funeral rites. And so they lay there. After a while, Ingria grew tired of home and left for the far north again, this time to pay a visit to a god; specifically Ukko, a thunder god and considered to be one of the mightiest.

As he attained the farthest reaches of Lapland, Ingria built a pyre out of birch to attract the attention of the god. After a while, he saw the mighty Ukko approach him. "What is it that ye ask of me? You are but a young mortal; what could you possibly need?" Ingria straightened himself out and said, "I would ask ye for your magic broadsword, so that I may slay the enemy, the savage Russian, in payment for the massacre of my hometown." Ukko withdrew his massive sword, and as he handed it to Ingria it shrunk into a compatible size for a mortal; it was still huge, nonetheless, and was as black as death.

As Ingria approached the Russian village, he decided to make his job a little easier. With a heart bent on revenge, he set fire to the town, burning everything and everyone with it. Then he marched into Russia's palace. He put every guard to the sword, and when Russia pleaded for mercy, Ingria laughed cruelly. "Mercy? Mercy, for destroying my future and my town? Mercy, for raping my mother? Mercy, for attempting to kill me thrice? No, no, no. I think it's time for my little prophesy to be fulfilled. Now, Russia, it is your time to die." And he decapitated him, then set fire to the palace. As he rode away, nothing remained of his enemy's possessions.

Arriving at his home, he walked in to see the corpses of his family members littered about the floor. He didn't see Sister Finland, and looking in her bed, he found her dead. She had been for only a short while, and it crushed him completely. She hadn't died looking like the beautiful maiden she was; she had died looking haggard and tired, her long brown hair now shorter and grey. Empty bottles littered the floor, and he realized that she had succumbed to the same alcoholism that had plagued her brother. In the midst of his grief, he saw a shimmering figure rise from the bed. It was a ghost, his mother's. She looked like she had when she was younger and when she had met Sami.

"My dear son," she said, smiling. "I didn't die due to the drink, but of a broken heart. You were my pride and joy, Ingria. I always kept thinking that you would return whole, but that wasn't to be." Ingria quickly wiped away tears. "You can, however, be redeemed. Go deep into the woods; there, you will find woodland nymphs that will shelter you and heal you." Taking a bedroll that held his hat, blanket, and Ukko's sword, he hiked into the woods.

But when he came to the place that his mother described, all he found was some old cloth. Bending down to have a closer look, he was hit by the emotional earthquake that resulted. It was all that remained of his sister Karelia's dress, and the flashback caused him to be blinded by grief and pain.

Withdrawing Ukko's sword, he interrogated it, saying, "My mother said that if I was to come here, I would find peace. But instead, I find the remains of my own sister, whom I violated in a moment of rage. Oh, why? Why? Why must this continue?" Looking at the dark blade, he said, "What's my own blood worth? Nothing. Will you take me, blade?" And he heard a voice laugh and echo from within the sword, "As a weapon of war, I do not care who I take."

Hearing this, Ingria thrust himself upon the sword, and died there amongst the trees and sun. Ukko's sword dissipated and returned to its owner, and Ingria's body dissolved and went to Tuonela.

And thus ends the saga of Ingria.

* * *

"_Ja on syytä huomata, että kun jumala Väinämöinen kuuli kuolemasta Inkerin, hän määräsi, että lapsi esille laiminlyöntien ja väärinkäytösten koskaan tiedä pyhyyttä rohkeutta, viisautta ja rakkautta, ja sen sijaan vain tietää kuoleman ja epätoivon ja pahan," _Finland said, his voice cracking. "And it is worth noting that when the god Väinämöinen heard of the death of Ingria, he decreed that a child raised in neglect and abuse will never know the sanctity of bravery, wisdom and love,and will instead only know of death and despair and evil," Åland translated, his voice going too.

Denmark was sobbing. Norway's eyes were red, and Iceland just stared into the fire. Sweden and Åland both felt a pang of guilt.

But the one most affected by the story was Sister Finland, who had lapsed into tears and was cuddling Sweden, who wasn't in great shape either. Finally, the most stoic country of all broke.

"He wasn't my sister's and Sami's, as in the story," Åland translated. "He was my and Estonia's son."

And the brokenhearted father curled up into a ball and cried.

* * *

_Author's Epilogue_

To be completely 100% honest with you guys, I cried writing this. Why would I subject myself to writing such a depressing story?

Well, _Fire and Ice _had hit a roadblock. I wasn't sure where to really go with the threads I had now, and so I decided to write something else while I thought of something new. I originally thought of it centering around Finland, since Kullervo himself was a Finn and the myth is Finnish, but I thought that an OC would be better. Aware of the monumental task of getting an audience to sympathize with an OC, I added a massive chunk to the beginning and dramatized a bunch of the story while sticking to the basic outline of the myth.

The actual poem this is based on is much more depressing. Don't read it if you're weak of heart.

There are two regions that Finland and Russia share cultural ties to- Ingria and Karelia. Ingria is by far the more populous and wealthy, and it surrounds St. Petersburg. Karelia is smaller and poorer and occupies the lake system to Ingria's north.

Sorry for ruining your day.


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